


It's called being tender, dumbass.

by glacecherie



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, Injury Recovery, M/M, The innate intimacy of making someone soup
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-06
Updated: 2019-12-22
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:54:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21692593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glacecherie/pseuds/glacecherie
Summary: Travis tries not to do soft shit like notice how Nolan has curled his hands into the sleeves of his borrowed coat, tucked away, or the way his profile looks in the light from some department store christmas display as they pass it, or how a bit of him wants to just - touch. Something reassuring and nice. Something that is far beyond just taking care of him when he's not feeling good.He's kinda glad Nolan falls asleep, because it means he doesn't have to stop looking at him that way.Shit, man.
Relationships: Travis Konecny/Nolan Patrick
Comments: 24
Kudos: 197





	1. take care

"Dig your fingers in more - Ow! Jesus _christ_!" Nolan bitches.

Travis gives up in frustration, pulling his hand away from Nolan's temple. His hair that he never dries properly is soaking through his sweatpants, because Nolan just. Lays his head there sometimes now, like it doesn't make Travis scream internally.

"I was doing as you said!"

"No, it fucking - it hurts either way, but it helps." Nolan said, sounding especially mumbly, and TK totally had a handle on him because that meant like, vulnerability or some shit. Maybe he was tired. Or both.

What he's saying is that he knows some soft shit is coming, because, quieter, Nolan says -

"Keep going?"

TK clenches and unclenches his free hand, because Nolan's hair has fallen across his face, and having to push it aside to continue is making his stomach flip weirdly. It's just _buddies_ , but he's fairly sure none of his other buddies would do this. He also - because like he said, totally has a handle on this - doesn't want anyone else to do this for Nolan. It's his responsibility to provide company and a shoulder to mumble angrily on, and apparently kneading at the side of Nolan's head until the tension and pain recedes just a little. 

He zones out, because even quieter, he says;

"Trav, please?"

Like, how does he say no to that? Who would turn that down, being able to help your best friend fight something nasty off with such a simple action? A coward and an idiot, that's who. 

Dutifully, he resumes, and Nolan exhales in a way that some of the tension drops from his shoulders.

-

"Hey asshole, wake up."

Nolan groans for a long number of seconds, and Travis ignores that in favour of looking at how Nolan is curled up tight with only a single leg and half his head sticking out of the bedclothes Travis fetched him. It used to look ridiculous and now it's endearing and he's gonna shelve his crisis about that until he's in his 40s or something, like a proper adult.

"Making soup, and if you sleep past now you'll be a bitch tonight."

"Fine, I'm awake."

He makes absolutely no move. If anything, he just rearranges himself to be _more_ cosy.

Travis waits for his eyes to shut again to very _very_ gently flick his forehead. 

"Come sit in the kitchen. I know you're just gonna wait til I leave and fall asleep again otherwise."

Nolan, who is 22, _whines_. Travis is unmoved.

"Don't care how much noise you make about it, you're gonna watch me make soup and cheer me on. " He says, maybe a little pithy. 

"Cheer you on...at soup." Nolan replies, deadpan. 

"I didn't stutter, but man, fuck you. See if you get the full experience."

" _The full Travis experience_ sounds like a real bad time." He bitches.

Travis bites his tongue against saying something very inappropriate and holds Nolan's hoodie out for him to put on like when guys will help their wife with her coat, and it's all _romantic_ or whatever. It pulls down his shirt at the back where his neck is freckled and Travis experiences a load of emotions at once. What a fucking deal.

"Just drag your ass to the kitchen, fuckhead."

He does as he's told after the kind of patient nagging he had to use on his younger cousins growing up. He drags an entire giant blanket with him, and were it not for the whole migraine thing, Travis would shake him by it.

Nolan perches at the breakfast bar and stares critically at the worktop. Travis isn't the tidiest cook. Maybe he could have paid someone to prep him a super gourmet version of chicken soup. Maybe he could have just opened a can and heated it up without Nolan knowing. It'd have been less work. 

But it isn't the same. It wouldn't be as intimate to do that. Wouldn't have made Nolan feel as cared for, and consistent support and care promotes healing. He watched an entire Ted talk about injury recovery, so sue him. Travis doesn't know shit about why he wants to cover Nolan's eyes with his hands when light feels too much, because Nolan has a sleep mask for that, and technically it's more effort on his part, but he does it anyway. It's the same sort of protective feeling as his fucking awful soup feelings. 

Whatever, he can excuse it as stubbornness. _Probably_.

He eyes Nolan when he's looking at his phone and takes out his frustrations on cutting a vegetable.

-

(The soup is good. He bullies Nolan into a second helping, and he only had to text his mom to ask questions 4 times.)

-

Nolan has to duck out of the team Christmas party early, and TK follows him, mostly because they arrived together and he doesn't know how much luck Nolan will have getting a cab at 12am the last Friday before Christmas. 

"You don't have to come after me, you know." He says, bitter and quiet.

Apparently he's in another funk. TK is totally there for him no matter what and shit, but bitter frustration is his least favourite Nolan. He's not sure if it's through his own anger about being able to do so little about it, or because it makes Nolan a million times harder to look after. 

TK is the shittest mother hen in the world. Was he this hard to care for when he was sick growing up? How did his mother not lovingly suffocate him? 

"Kinda don't have the option, buddy. You didn't get yourself here."

"I'll get a cab." He grunts.

"At midnight? In the middle of -? Yeah, sure. You'll freeze to death before then. Especially dressed like that."

"I'm fine." Nolan says, grinding his teeth. He's also visibly shivering and is yet to turn off his light up ugly christmas sweater, which adds something to the tragedy, he feels.

"You're not fine, jesus. Let me get your coat."

"Didn't bring one."

TK squints at him, then makes to gesture to the snow piling up around them.

"What! It was warm in our apartment, it was warm in the car, it was warm in there, I haven't needed one!" 

"Oh...my god." TK groans, "Fucking - wait here."

"Can you stop fucking bothering me?" Nolan spits, and maybe that'd hurt anyone else, but TK is both too dumb to know his own limits and too stubborn to die, so it does nothing.

Maybe he's way soft on Nolan too. He's come to the realisation that maybe being able to be this patient with him is like, a result of loving him. Or some stupid shit. It was weirdly non-traumatic to make his peace with, because it doesn't feel weird. More like an inevitability. 

It's not something he thought he'd be getting deep about in the cloakroom of _whatever the fuck_ fancy bar this is, but he grabs his coat and hollers out his goodbyes. He's still sort of jealous that he'd missed out on the elaborate cocktails on offer, especially the one that was on fire, but bro solidarity with Nolan not being able to drink won out. Maybe given his whole deep feelings, _bro solidarity_ is the wrong wording. 

He nips that thought in the bud before he heads back out, and just so Nolan doesn't feel like he's being babied, throws the coat at him.

"Heads up, asshole."

"I don't need your fucking coat." Nolan spits, jutting his chin out.

Travis rolls his eyes. 

"You're putting the fucking coat on." 

"We're presumably getting in the car, I don't need - this."

It's not exactly believable when his teeth chatter.

"It'll take a while to heat up, and being cold makes you all tense, and when you're tense it's more likely to flare up."

Nolan looks absolutely mutinous when he narrows his eyes and pulls it around his shoulders.

TK does not have some sort of reaction to that where he wants to puff his chest out and maybe commit the entire thing to memory.  
  
"Where'd you learn that, another fucking Ted talk?"

TK decides to wait until they're in the car and on the move before he replies, because Nolan is sulking against the window but keeps glancing over like he really does expect an answer, the bitch.

"I didn't watch another talk. I called your mom."

Nolan is outraged the entire rest of the journey, and accidentally starts venting his frustrations about the migraines and literally everything else, so TK lets it happen.

He tries not to do soft shit like notice how Nolan has curled his hands into the sleeves, tucked away, or the way his profile looks in the light from some department store light display as they pass it, or how a bit of him wants to just - _touch_. Something reassuring and nice. 

He's kinda glad Nolan falls asleep, because it means he doesn't have to stop looking at him that way. 

_Shit, man._

-

"Happy new year, I got you these..." He holds a pair of headphones in one hand and, with more of a flourish, a bag "...and takeout." 

"Oh my god, you're a lifesaver. For the takeout, at least."

He grabs the bag and TK gets plates. 

"What's with the headphones?"

TK ducks his head. 

"Noise cancelling ones. You can watch the fireworks without risking noise you know...setting you off."

Way back when he got his diagnosis, nobody could even mention it by name, not without Nolan lashing out and getting stressed. Travis knew, really that it was because he hated feeling vulnerable, but it made him the worst patient in the world, surpassing even Travis himself.

"Huh, thanks."

Their fingers get a static shock when he passes them.

"Watch it, asshole." He says, and Nolan snorts, then sets and out trying to find a really cheesy movie for them to collaboratively massacre. 

It's quiet and fun and makes him feel content again. The problem is that the _content good_ feeling is getting to pretty unbearable levels. It's whatever. It might just taper off when Nolan's better. 

Even in his head, it sounds stupid.

-

When the clock strikes midnight, they wrap up and stand on the balcony to watch. Their arms brush by their sides, and TK concentrates hard on the colours scattered across the Philly skyline instead of wanting to do something good groan-worthy like grab Nolan's hand. Again. The way the snow is sticking in his hair is causing him enough emotional pain.

He almost says something to break the tension when Nolan nudges him, dropping his head briefly to knock against Travis' shoulder. 

"Thanks," He murmurs. "Happy new year."

Travis wants to kiss him.

"No problem." He says instead, though whether Nolan can hear him is another matter.

Nolan stands up straight again, but doesn't move so their sides aren't pressed together. Like he said, being this unbearably content and also? Longing? It ain't good for him, but he's too stubborn to quit it, so here he is. 

_Oof._


	2. rotten work

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "What if it doesn't go away and it's bad enough I have to retire? What if it's bad enough that I always need this much fucking - coddling."
> 
> It's not coddling, he wants to say. It's not coddling, don't think of it that way, you stupid motherfucker. You idiot. Fucking moron.
> 
> "Then I'll take care of you." He says, which is arguably worse.

The real wakeup call, like most of the wakeup calls he's picked up in his life, comes from his mom. Literally a call because he's on the phone to her he jokes weakly to himself, and promptly would like to die.

He listens to updates from home whilst waiting for Nolan to come back down from his own place. His mom talks about how she'll visit soon, the dog, and then she asks after what he did on new year's eve, in the sort of tone that's really asking "how much trouble did you make?"

That's the tipping point. 

The next 15 minutes are just him venting his spleen about how Nolan deserves better and how it isn't fucking fair, and did she know that, like, Nolan is really great? 

He mostly gets sympathetic noises in return, and he's almost feeling better until someone clears their throat as they stumble into his kitchen and nearly give him a heart attack.

Thanks man, Nolan mouths, and gives him a shove as he elbows him aside to get to the coffee machine.

"Don't have that if your head's bad." He says automatically, and Nolan flips him off, and his mom asks that he say hi for her and -

Travis would like to hit reset on the day already, and it isn't even 10am. 

(It's a good job, he figures, that he hadn't gone for a sad romantic flavour of vent. He can save that for his friends, when he gets home drunk and texts them as he chugs gatorade in hope he won't be hungover the following day. That's about the only high point of the morning.)

-

Nolan joins them for practice 4 days in a row, and then gets crippling vertigo out of nowhere and has to press his forehead against the cool of the wall and take a bunch of deep breaths just to stand without Travis gripping his elbow. At least it happens after he's showered, Travis figures, and stamps down the ridiculous urge to sweep Nolan's hair back off his face or lay a hand on the nape of his neck.

"Get off." He spits, but doesn't actually shrug him off. 

"You know I'm gonna say that I won't." Travis says mildly, because it's right. 

"I'm fine, just fuck off."

"I wish I could, I really do."

"Holy shit, will you just shut up?"

"Fine, but I'm not gonna let go."

"You old fucking romantic." Nolan grumbles, but he's not Actually Really Pissed anymore, so Travis' traitorous hands do, in fact, push Nolan's hair out of his face. 

Nolan, for what it's worth, makes a vaguely annoyed sound that Travis has come to recognise as the I-wont-let-myself-be-coddled noise, whilst allowing himself to be coddled.

Somewhere down one of the corridors beneath the rink, a phone rings, and other than the occasional set of footsteps, it's eerily quiet.

"You good enough to walk to the car?" He asks.

Nolan exhales heavily. 

"Give me another minute, Teeks. " 

Travis nods and rubs his back.

-

They take turns staying at each other's apartments so much that it becomes the new normal, and one memorable time he has to talk Nolan out of getting a little dog like Claude has. He also has to endure fifteen minutes of gooogling various adjectives to try and work out the breed. 

They could just text Claude, but he'd definitely get suspicious - also Nolan is incredibly stubborn and insists he can remember it, if TK would give him a fucking minute.

He has had many minutes, scowling vaguely into space chewing the skin of his thumb.

It makes Travis look at his mouth and think I want to bite before he can stop himself.

In desperation to stop staring, he googles "labradog small curly red" 

"Labradoodle! Dude, it's a fucking labradoodle."

"What the fuck, I'd have gotten it!"

"When some time next year?"

"Christ-"

"Maybe in a decade?"

"Oh my god, you're so fucking annoying."

"And yet you're still here?"

Nolan grumbles. When Travis tries to stifle more laughter at his expense, he hurls a throw pillow at his head. It doesn't even get him, so he chirps him for that as well.

-

Later, they watch some garbage action movie about bank robbers mostly as background noise. Travis has no idea who any of the characters are apart from the hick one, and that's only because Nolan chirped that it was him if he was a chick.

A very traitorous bit of him thinks "what if I grabbed your hand in the popcorn bowl" but a much larger part of him thinks "What if I pulled your hair whilst I fucked you?"

"Why'd you want a dog anyway?" He asks, and Nolan shrugs. It jostles Travis enough that he misses the kernel he was throwing in the vague direction of his mouth. He's not sure when it became normal for them to be pressed shoulder to thigh when they chill, but he's not gonna question it. 

"I mean, what if I never come back, like...properly. You'll still be playing, I'll just be stuck here.

Travis has a lot of conflicting feelings, so he pinches Nolan's leg about it.

"Don't fucking jinx it!" He hisses, and Nolan stares at him with his weird, piercing 1000 yard stare as he slowly reaches out and knocks on the wood of the table.

Travis rolls his eyes.

"You turn into such a recluse if I leave you alone too long, my god, and you'd get all mean. You're like a pissy cat."

Nolan glowers at him, which does 0 to dispute that.

"See!"

"Fuck off, I'm serious."

"Fuckin' me too, you're gonna make it back."

"But what if it doesn't go away?"

"Then we'll work around that."

He's not sure when he switched to saying we, or thinking it. Whatever. Better leave that for another day.

"What if it doesn't go away and it's bad enough I have to retire? What if it's bad enough that I always need this much fucking - coddling."

It's not coddling, he wants to say. It's not coddling, don't think of it that way, you stupid motherfucker. You idiot. Fucking moron.

"Then I'll take care of you." He says, which is arguably worse.

There a stretch of silence, but it isn't especially uncomfortable.   
  
Then Nolan sniffles, and it's like. Travis, technically, has heard worse sounds. A boy at his school used to scrape his nails down the blackboard every time he passed it, and that was torture. This just hurts him in his heart or something.

He doesn't know what to say, so he lifts his arm. Nolan lays against his side without another word.

-

Then, the next night, he dreams.

It's not anything with plot. It just feels like a compilation of all the times he's tried to stop looking at Nolan like that and failing. But worse.

Nolan nipping his fingers when Travis pushes them in his mouth, dumb tiny gap in his teeth imprinting just below his knuckle. Seeing just how far down the mottled flush on his cheeks goes (just below his collarbones, the white scar on one of them slicing through the pink). There are 3 moles on the side of his neck and he bites and sucks the space between two until Nolan's breath catches in his throat like he's trying not to whine. The long pale stretch of his back as he's - jesus christ - on his hands and knees before him, his nails digging in to his hips nearly hard enough to cut as Nolan buries his face in the crook of his arm. The scratches down his back. His thighs spread just enough to let Travis between them as he fucks into him tender and rough, wanting to make him break, fuck fuck fuck -

Travis wakes up hard, frustrated, and before his alarm, but not too before his alarm for it to be worth sleeping again.

He only just tamps down the urge to yell into a pillow.  
-

"We're going for dinner." Travis says by way of greeting. There's still snow stuck to him and any second now Nolan will bitch about his carpet. He thrusts a takeout cup into his hands, because sometimes he needs to be coaxed into being a person.

"We're not going for dinner." Nolan replies, pissy. He takes the cup though. "What is this?"

"Some christmas tea shit, does it matter? It was the only thing without caffeine. We're going out. You get all weird cooped up."

"Fuck off, weird how?"

"I don't know, sleepy and sad, like you're going into hibernation."

"You can't wake me one time, and suddenly you're worried I'll hibernate?"

"Yeah, like a turtle. Get dressed."

Nolan scrunches his face up.

"Turtles don't hibernate you dumbass, how the fuck would that work at sea?"

"They hibernate, buddy. I saw a documentary about it."

He hadn't seen a documentary on it, but Ivan had been trying to watch one when Travis ranted at him about Nolan. It's almost the same.

Nolan scowls and sips his drink. Travis does absolutely not preen when he reluctantly enjoys it.

"Will you shut up about turtles and hibernating and whatever the fuck if I come?"

Victory. 

"Yeah, change your clothes too."

"Why the-"

"Because you're not wearing sweatpants to a restaurant?"

Nolan huffs and any other time, Travis would totally chirp him about it, but right now, maybe he wants to be sweet or something.

"Also because I'll tell your mom if you do."

There's an outraged squawk from somewhere behind him, then banging about from his room

He's complying though, so Travis counts this as a win.

-

It turns out that Nolan was right about the turtles and that Travis meant tortoises. Whatever. The important this is that he swung a private room at the back of some ridiculously bougie restaurant, which means he can dim the lights if it's too much for Nolan, and a lot of the noise can be blocked off. If this was an actual date, Nolan would probably totally put out. 

It isn't, but Nolan looks cute when he hacks off a conspicuously big half of their shared dessert, and Travis doesn't have a meltdown about it. 

-

Travis feels like he's going crazy, because he's fairly sure that Nolan isn't tactile. Like, he doesn't remember Nolan being particularly cuddly, and he still isn't cuddly persay, but he'll do other stuff now. Jam his cold feet under Travis' thigh and then act like Travis is the weird one for complaining that he's cold. Switching seats on the bus specifically so he can ignore Travis and pass out on his shoulder even though the ride is short and he'll inevitably be mega pissed at not being able to nap properly. Falling asleep curled towards him instead of away if it's one of the nights where Nolan can't doze off but is too stubborn to leave his bed. 

It's a lot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy chanukkah / nearly Christmas! As with years past, I always come up with something awful for the festive season - 2019 is no different. 
> 
> Thank you for reading :^)!!

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, did you know that sometimes having feelings is the worst thing in the world, and that migraines are also the worst thing in the world, and thusly, this fic is also the worst thing in the world?
> 
> This is very loosely a 5 time + 1 fic. Will the +1 be feelings and then plotless pornography? I mean. Yeah. 
> 
> Thank you for reading! :)


End file.
